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Monday, March 16, 2009

Damn Spots

I should like to express my sincerest gratitude to a one Ms. Kelly Clarkson for the joy she bestowed upon me this weekend with her latest album, “All I Ever Wanted.” And it is just that. I am loving it/living for it. It made my gym experience on Saturday so enjoyable. That is, of course, until some no-neck gumba meathead interrupted my gorgeous workout with Kelly to request that I “spot him.” If you can believe it, I had never in my extensive gym career been asked to spot anyone up until now. And I personally have never required spotting myself, as the only weights I lift are either single-digit or stuffed with goose down.

Trying not to give myself away as a complete ‘tard, I decided to just wing it. He laid down on the bench, and taking my cue from the other Spot Mistresses around me, I squatted over him. He started doing his thing while I just stood there faking it (as I’ve been known to do when I’m in that position.) Eventually, through his huffing and puffing, he started shouting, “OK, OK!” I didn’t know what he meant, so I started to have an anxiety attack and shouted, “I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! WHY HAVE YOU CHOSEN ME?!?!” Then he started to shout, “JUST SUPPORT ME…SUPPORT ME!” So I began stroking his hair and saying things like, “You’re doing so good… I’m so proud of you…” I didn’t know what he meant! And he was basically lifting two of me if I were carrying a large purse. I don’t know how the shit I was expected to be of any help! Then he just started turning red and cursing at me. It was horrifying. We totally broke up.

I would just like to say the following to the other seven or so members of my ghetto ass gym (please dial 3 now for Spanish): If you see me kickin' around the weight room, please do not ask me for a spot. And if you ever hear me request one for myself, know that I’m only referring to lighting design.

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